


Smooth Sailing, Smoother Skin

by matello



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, sex tags will come eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matello/pseuds/matello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirschtein, at the ripe age of 18 years old, is finally going to college. He would probably be excited, except for the fact that he has little to no understanding of basic social skills and building friendships due to a childhood full of moving around.</p><p>Living in a dormitory, away from home for the first time, he'll finally be able to fashion those skills. Or so he hopes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shitty Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> Wow okay. I haven't written fanfiction in forever, so! I hope this isn't too horrible. I don't really know where I'm going to go with this, so I'm sorry to say it probably won't be incredibly action packed wow amazing excitement. But you never know, right?
> 
> (Some people- including myself- really dig a cozy not-too-dramatic but a little dramatic friends to lovers fic. This is for those people.)

College. Yes, college. The first big step to the rest of your life, as is stressed by your parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, second cousins twice removed, and pretty much every living being on the planet. To Jean Kirschtein, even the trees seemed to whisper words like ‘have you applied?’, and ‘what’s your major?’ when the wind managed to flutter their leaves just right.

Well. Maybe the plants weren’t speaking to him just yet, but the thoughts were in his head so constantly that he’d projected them onto pretty much everything around him. 

Truth be told, though he didn’t want to admit it, the problem he had with college wasn’t that he’d had bad grades. It wasn’t even the stress of applying. He had managed to scrape by well enough to get accepted into early admission for his program. Jean’s problem was that for the first time in his life, he had to move away from home and live in the dorms of his college if he wanted a chance at attending without a four hour back-and-forth transit time daily.

And with dorms came social interaction. A subject that Jean maybe possibly utterly lacked in. He’d moved around with his family for the majority of his childhood, leaving him with little time to make strong, lasting friendships. It had gotten to the point where he didn’t even want to try, for fear of losing contact with the friends he made. And so he didn’t.

But that was the past, which Jean hoped to leave behind as he took his first few steps into the dormitory building he had been assigned to. He hadn’t brought much with him. A messenger bag slung across one of his shoulders contained a few days worth of clothes, as he had planned on buying most of his outfits from a mall close to campus. What else he had was just a small box of assorted personal belongings under his right arm, with his left (subconsciously) wrapped protectively around his midsection.

He took a deep breath, and made it approximately a step and a half into the hall before completely colliding into another person who, by the feel of it, was in full sprint. Jean barely had enough time to let out a gasp before he was sent flying to the ground, the box flying out from under his arm at the impact.

“Fucking watch it, shitty haircut!” was all he heard from the guy who had run into him, who had somehow managed to keep himself upright and continue his path down the hallway. Jean caught a glimpse of the guy just before he turned the corner, but his mousy brown hair had shrouded his face from view.

“Just my fucking luck,” Jean muttered to himself, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a grey beanie. He jammed it onto his head before lifting himself from the ground to collect his newly battered box. He wouldn’t even be able to recognize the guy to hold a grudge, he realized, and a scowl quickly planted itself on Jean’s face for the entirety of his walk. Or shuffle, rather, as a dull throb now plagued his right side. 

Sighing, Jean rustled through his pockets again, this time in search of his dorm map. He was assigned to room G125, according to the paper, which was located on the fourth floor. The building itself was gigantic, and more so like a large-scale apartment building than what he would have expected a dormitory to look like. As Jean shuffled along floor A, in search of stairs, he realized the building even had an elevator. Quickly opting out of finding and taking the stairs, he pressed the button to summon the lift. Eager to get out of the hallway, he entered the lift as soon as its doors were wide enough to accommodate him.

Jean pressed the button to his floor (to his surprise, even the elevator buttons were labeled alphabetically rather than numerically), tapping his foot impatiently as the elevator began its rather slow rise. He really just wanted to get in his room as soon as possible, preferably before whoever his roommate was got there. Then he could just flop onto his bed without a second thought and cry a little or something. Make up for it by doing something people thought to be manly. Like punching things. Or something. Whatever.

Eventually, Jean made it to his floor and hurried along the halls until he managed to find “G125” in brassy characters, seemingly hand-painted onto the door. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keys, he fumbled with his key ring before finally locating the key and shoving it into the door as quickly as he could. 

Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, Jean strode into the room and closed the door immediately behind him, cracking his eyes open slowly once he heard the click.

The room was empty, save for a pair of beds, desks, and small shelves. The walls were completely void of colour or decoration and made of shitty smooth brick material, but it wasn’t as if he’d expected any better. The most beautiful part of the room, he’d decided- the lack of his future roommate’s presence. A huge weight was lifted from Jean’s chest as he dropped his things on the ground (his box was already damaged, anyway, what worse could happen to it), and ripped off his beanie. He immediately crumpled to a heap on the bed (it was just a mattress at the moment, really) located at the left side of the room, exhaling as if he'd been holding his breath for hours. Neither of the sides –or any part of the room, for that matter- had windows, so Jean didn’t feel guilty about which bed he took.

Playing with the seam line of the mattress, Jean wondered what he was supposed to do next. He could take out his belongings and set up his side of the room, but he was far too exhausted to even want to move. He couldn’t primp and fix his apparently horrible hair; as expected, the dorm rooms didn’t have individual bathrooms, or even mirrors. He’d have to see to that later.

Sighing for what felt like the millionth time that day, Jean gave in to just stretching out on the uncovered mattress, which was probably really gross but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He needed to shower or clean up in some way anyway. He probably stunk, having to trudge his way all over campus in the blazing sun until he finally found his dormitory. Not to mention the intense nerves he was experiencing every couple of seconds when he even thought about making friends, or even meeting his roommate. 

All in all, though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Jean was more excited than anything at the prospect of a roommate. A roommate was pretty much someone who had to get along with you, right? It had its downsides of course, like lack of privacy- Jean was probably going to be stuck jerking off in the shower- and less alone time, but that was pretty fair in exchange for. Well, human companionship. Not being a loser. That kind of stuff.

Jean glanced over to the other side of the room, which would soon enough show signs of occupancy. What would the guy be like? Would he be a neat freak? Sloppy? A shudder ran through Jean’s spine at the prospect of a roommate who left old food lying around the room. He was pretty much guaranteed to throw up at the sight of mold, so he just had to cross his fingers and hope his roommate wasn’t a total slob.

On the thought of cleanliness, Jean decided that if he did in fact smell bad (a quick whiff of either of his armpits told him that was not the case, however he still wanted to make a good impression), he should probably freshen up a little. He reached down to grab his box, pulling the flaps apart and searching for his cologne. Spray was a better word for it, cologne made it sound like he was going out on a fancy date or something. Eyes drifting over various objects- alarm clock, a few books, a box of condoms supplied by his overbearing, ultra-manly, “go on son, go out there and get laid!” father- he eventually spotted the small spray bottle and pulled it out. He stood and quickly sprayed it across his body, capping it and tossing it back into the box as soon as he was finished with it.

Jean was left once again with nothing to do, and so he flopped back onto his mattress, face-down. He was starting to get restless, realizing he was really just waiting for his roommate to finally arrive.

“Where the hell is this guy?” He muttered into the scratchy fabric, only to be scared shitless not even a second later at the sound of a cheery response from behind him.

“You mean this guy?”

Jean whipped around at lighting speed, greeted by an overly-cheery smile and a face full of freckles. “Wow, it smells absolutely amazing in here!”

The guy didn’t even comment on Jean’s (probably overdramatic) reaction as he immediately began to unpack his things and continue chattering as Jean remained frozen in place.

“My name is Marco Bodt! I’m your new roommate. But you could probably already guess that!” He laughed to himself, busily pulling textbooks from his bag and setting them up on his shelf. He then prompted Jean without taking his eyes off of his current task, “What’s your name?”

“Jean Kirschtein.” Jean responded hesitantly, still unmoving, watching Marco’s every movement as he bustled around his side of the room.

Suddenly, the other boy stopped his actions, turning to Jean, positively beaming. He stuck out a hand for Jean to shake. 

“Nice to meet you, Jean, I’m Marco! Oh wait, I already told you that, didn’t I? Oh well, at least now you won’t forget!” Marco let out a hearty laugh.

Jean was absolutely terrified. 

He barely managed to weakly slip his hand into Marco’s and was met with just as much enthusiasm by the boy’s hand as his speech had shown.

“By the way, I’m sorry I surprised you when I came into the room! I should have let you know I was there right away.”

“It’s, uh. It’s alright. How long were you there, anyway?” Jean replied, finally beginning to regain his composure.

“Well, not long at all, really! Just when you kinda flopped onto the bed there.” Marco responded with a giggle, causing Jean to redden a few shades in embarrassment. He must have masked the sound of the door opening when he threw his cologne back into the box or something. There’s no way he wouldn’t have noticed the door opening otherwise.

“Let’s forget about that.” Jean managed, scratching his head awkwardly. “I don’t normally talk to myself, either.”

Marco giggled again, sending an uncomfortable twinge down Jean’s spine. “It’s alright! I don’t mind if you do. Anyway, what’s your major?”

“East Asian studies. I’m taking courses on Japan, mostly.”

“Ah, really? That’s such a coincidence! My major is East Asian studies too! I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, huh, Jean!”

“Haha, yeah, probably.” Jean tried to force cheerfulness into his voice, but he really wasn’t so sure about the whole great-friends-with-roommate thing anymore. Was Marco always this cheerful? 

Marco responded with another beaming smile, and Jean realized that that was probably the case. However, the freckled boy had stopped talking and resumed his unpacking, giving Jean a chance to visually investigate.

Marco was fairly tall- possibly even taller than Jean- with very dark hair and a pale complexion. He was wearing a long-sleeved thick striped shirt, nothing too fancy. His pants were pretty form-fitting, but only so they touched his legs where his muscle bulged out the most. Nothing so that someone could look at him and see all of his assets, which in Jean’s mind was something to be thankful for. Marco was also fairly slim, but through his form-fitting clothing Jean could tell that he had a bit of muscle to him. Nothing too intimidating, though; he was just an average-built guy. 

Jean had already taken note of Marco’s freckles- but he discovered that they were probably all over his body, judging by the sprinkle of them he could see on the nape of Marco’s neck where his shirt dipped just a little lower. Jean only had to begin imagining the various places the black haired boy’s freckles might have been before he decided he’d investigated his roommate’s appearance well enough and slid out of the bed to grab his duffel bag. 

Luckily, he’d figured the beds wouldn’t be dressed, and had brought his old sheets from his bed back home. Jean wasn’t usually this well-prepared, and was pretty impressed with himself for thinking the situation through beforehand.

“Need any help with that?” Marco’s voice came from behind him once again, thankfully only slightly startling him this time.

“Uh- sure, thanks.”

Jean handed one side of his mattress cover to Marco, and together the two stretched it across the twin-sized bed. Jean returned the favour by helping with Marco’s bed, before returning to his side of the room and setting up his other sheets. He would have to buy a thick blanket- but for now, plain sheets would have to do. Marco noted he would have shared had he had another large blanket, but Jean waved him off anyway. If anything could make his interactions with Marco thus far any weirder, it would probably be using his blanket. Yep, that would definitely be the height of abnormality in this new situation. Jean carried on with his setting up, passing the thought away as quickly as he could.

After they had been doing their own things for a while, Jean eventually checked his phone to realize it was already 9:00pm. Normally he would stay up much later, but the stress of the day so far had worn him out heavily.

“It’s pretty early, but I think I’m gonna tuck in.” He informed Marco, who was currently setting up a laptop on his bed. Marco simply offered a smile and cheery goodnight, much to Jean’s relief. He’d been slightly worried that Marco might start non-stop chattering again, but it seemed maybe the guy did appreciate alone time as well.

Jean returned his goodnight, stripping down to his boxers and hopping into bed as quickly as he could, albeit a bit shyly. The hairs on the back of his neck had pricked up as he took off his clothes, probably due to embarrassment. Jean shook it off, however, remembering that not everybody was as socially inept as he was and Marco probably couldn’t care less that his dude roommate took off his clothes. It’s not like it was the only time he was gonna see that. Besides, he wasn’t even naked or anything. 

Jean’s thoughts came to an end as he pulled his thin sheets over his head as a sort of protective coverage. Marco hit the light switch, to Jean’s relief, and the only remaining source of light was the bearable glow of Marco’s laptop. Jean closed his eyes, breathing deeply to relax himself into a quick sleep. Luck shone down upon him tonight, apparently, as he was unconscious in only a matter of minutes, the only sign of his existence being the rhythmic rise and fall of the lump under the sheet.

\----------

When Jean awoke, the room was pitch black. Without any windows, there was no way of knowing what time it was without checking a clock. He could hear Marco breathing deeply on the other side of the room, and so he assumed it was still some time in the night. Jean began to slowly reach towards his phone on the desk beside his bed, as not to wake Marco up by moving too quickly, when a curious sound reached his ears.

It sounded like Marco was sleep talking or something, just the faint hint of a voice reaching Jean’s ears. He resumed his stretch towards his phone until he heard it again, only this time louder.

That was when Jean realized that Marco’s deep breathing was a bit too fast to be caused by sleep. As he came to that realization Marco let out another sound, louder this time, more clear. He was letting out tiny moans and groans on the other side of the room, and Jean could hear him clear as day.

The sound of rustling sheets and slick movements soon became evident, and Jean’s eyes began to widen comically. He slowly retreated back into his own sheets, a hand covering his mouth in shock as his roommate forced out a strained sentence.

“Ahhh, fuck, please, fuck me…”

Jean had to bite down into his hand to prevent himself from making a sound, the reality of the situation he was in hitting him fast and hard. Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit his new sparkly happy friendly roommate was jerking off just a few feet away from him. Holy shit, what was he going to do? Could he do anything?

Before he could even gather his thoughts together, the slick wet sounds sped up momentarily before being punctuated by a gasp and tiny whine, and the room eventually fell completely silent.

Holy shit, Jean thought again. Holy shit.

Trying his hardest to calm down, Jean closed his eyes and withdrew his hand from his mouth, attempting to steady his own breathing. Eventually, after an unknown amount of time (Jean refused to reach out for his phone to check what time it was) he managed to fall back into a slumber, completely refusing to acknowledge the fact that his new roommate had just masturbated in the same room as him, on the first night they were living together, and that Jean was possibly sporting half an erection himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact- Jean's dormitory goes up to floor T (20), and each floor has 20 dorm rooms fit for two people. Each floor has its own decently-sized communal bathroom and kitchen. Separately, of course. But that's not what matters here. What matters here is that this dormitory building hosts around 800 boys. So many boys. That fact is truly amazing.
> 
> PS- Jean and Marco's room number has significance. Comment with what you think it is if you think you've figured it out (it's pretty easy)! I'm amazed the math worked out well/realistically enough for me to slip in this little easter egg.


	2. Newdity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those of you who have commented/subbed/given kudos/bookmarked this fic! It's a real deciding factor in whether or not I continue to write this story, so I'm happy to know people are enjoying it thus far. So thank you again!

Jean woke once more to intense darkness (he’d come to the realization that this lack of windows was really going to hinder him during the school year) after a less-than-wonderful sleep. Between the lack of a proper blanket and his roommate’s late-night escapades, it was pretty much guaranteed that he was going to have a shitty sleep. Today, he’d decided, he was going to eliminate at least one of those problems.

The room was silent; Jean expected to hear a faint rustle of sheets, or at the very minimum, rhythmic breathing from his roommate, yet he was met with nothing. He wondered if maybe Marco had left the room for the day, or if maybe he was just a very silent sleeper. He had no way of backing up his first theory, however, as he didn't have a single clue what time it might be due to the missing presence of any sort of window. For all he knew, it could be four or five in the morning still.

He reached out to grab his phone, this time without any reserve, to realize it was 7:34am. A quick flash of his phone lighting to the other side of the room revealed Marco’s empty bed, sheets and blanket strewn across it haphazardly. A sigh of relief made its way through Jean’s partially open lips as he sank back into his mattress, eyes tracing along the smooth ceiling, faintly illuminated by the glow of his phone.

Jean wasn’t sure he’d be able to face Marco quite so soon without his mind flashing back to the night before. Was that roommate etiquette? Jerk off in the middle of the night a few feet away from your sleeping roommate? 

Now, Jean had never lived with a roommate, but he was positive that no, that was not typical roommate etiquette. Especially not while muttering- Jean shuddered - “fuck me” to himself. It brought the thought of his roommate’s orientation to mind, but Jean didn’t really care. He wasn’t sure of his own, so it’s not like he had a problem if Marco liked the thought of getting fucked. He could be completely wrong, anyway, as he’d heard of plenty of straight dudes who got fucked by their girlfriends. Well, heard of them on the internet. Heard them getting fucked by their girlfriends. On the internet. It didn’t really matter how he found out.

A twinge in his midsection led Jean to jumping out of bed in a flash, causing him to flinch instantly at the pain still present on his hip from the yesterday’s collision. He decided he was going to take a shower (the warmth might soothe his pain, but another very specific part of him suggested he take a cold one) and try to forget what he’d heard. Hey, it’s not as if Marco intended for him to wake up, right? It was an unfortunate coincidence on Jean’s part to wake up, and his roommate was doing something completely normal. Well, completely normal for when you’re alone, but there’s not much else you can do in a situation where you’re sharing a small room with someone. 

Grabbing his 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, bar of soap, towel, and a fresh set of clothes, Jean left his room and made way for the dorm’s bathrooms. Each floor had its own bathroom for the 40 guys on each floor (approximately), which in Jean’s mind was incredibly convenient. Much better than having to try to share a single bathroom with 800 other guys. 

He reached the shower room, finding it to be pretty ordinary. When he entered, he was met with a small, tiled locker area with a two back-to-back benches in the middle. The design was incredibly simple, as much as you might expect a dormitory shower room to be. The tiles were off-white and blue, patterned in a checkered format. The lockers were a kind of grungy grey colour, but appeared to have been freshly painted (due to the lack of scratches across the surfaces). There were exactly 40 of them. Jean snorted loudly at the thought of a communal 40 dude shower as he picked one of the empty lockers to store his towel and clean clothes.

In the background he could hear the hiss of a shower running through a closed door, which he assumed led to the showers themselves. He hoped desperately that there would be stalls, but that hope was soon crushed as he pulled off his boxers and entered the room to find himself face to face with somebody’s bare ass. The room was decorated similarly to the locker room, and was even similar in structure. To Jean’s horror (but not surprise), it was just a giant cube with shower heads lining the perimeter. 

Averting his eyes immediately, Jean let the door fall closed behind him and looked to find a shower head as far away from the other guy as possible. However, his plans of going unnoticed failed immediately as the student turned at the sound of the closing door.

“Oh, hi, Jean!” Marco’s cheery voice rebounded off of the shower walls, echoing almost tauntingly in Jean’s brain. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. What do you do when you see someone you know in the showers? What is shower etiquette like? Do you pick the shower beside him? Do you pick one as far away as possible? But wouldn’t that be rude? What if you do and he gets offended?

Questions spread themselves through Jean’s head like wildfire and after stuttering a few times in his step, he eventually settled on a shower to Marco’s left. Not directly beside him, but one away from the freckled boy. 

“Er- hi.” Jean responded, just a bit too late, desperately hoping Marco wouldn’t challenge his choice of shower. But he was met again with just a smile as Marco turned back to his own.

His relieved sigh masked by the loud spray of water, Jean laid out his supplies on the rack protruding from the wall and pulled the faucet handle to start his shower. Hot water immediately splashed onto his skin, and Jean could feel the tension slipping away from his body in a wave. For a few seconds, he just let the water wash over him as he soaked his hair, before grabbing his shampoo/conditioner and squeezing a bit into his hand. As he began to lather it into his hair, he noticed Marco staring out of the corner of his eye, and a cold shiver ran down his spine.

From what Jean could tell, Marco’s eyes were exactly at crotch level.

His heart began to hammer against his chest in fear. What the hell was he supposed to do? Was Marco just openly staring at his dick? Okay, he was absolutely positive this was not shower etiquette. 

The air felt thick with tension to Jean, the only sound present in the room being that of water hitting skin and tile.

Becoming increasingly aware of his own nakedness, he tried to continue lathering his hair and pretend not to notice, but when Marco’s eyes kept flicking back over to Jean he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He turned his head to look over at the dark-haired boy, just as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Holy shit, Jean, that’s gigantic!”

What the fuck?

Jean physically startled at the comment, eyes widening dramatically. 

“Uh- what?” He asked shakily, unsure of what he could even say in this situation.

“That bruise! Dude, it’s like. The size of a volleyball or something, what happened?” Marco pointed to Jean’s hip, concern and amazement mixed on his face.

Jean looked down to where Marco was pointing and surprised himself with an unnecessarily loud laugh, shaking his head as relief spread through his body. 

“Some asshole ran the fuck into me in the hall and I fell,” he informed his roommate, returning to lathering his hair, “I didn’t even know I had a bruise until you pointed it out.”

Marco returned to his own showering, though he let out a displeased noise. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay at least.”

Jean glanced back over to Marco one more time to make sure he had in fact returned to cleaning himself before he let the tension out of his muscles again and allowed himself to relax. He even had to hold back another laugh. Really, who looked at another guy’s hip area, in the shower, and said “it’s gigantic”? He was beginning to believe Marco might just be a little bit on the weird side. Or maybe just innocent.

His mind flashed back to the night before once again, and he struck that thought away as quickly as it had come.

Okay, definitely not innocent. 

Jean rinsed the remainder of the lather out of his hair, reaching out for his bar of soap. He could hear Marco shut off his shower next to him as he moistened the soap between his hands.

“I’ll see you back in the room?” Marco asked as he made his way to the door.

“Sure.” Jean responded, not bothering to turn and watch as the door closed behind his roommate. A few minutes later, he had finished his own shower, and grabbed his belongings before returning, dripping wet, to the locker room. Marco was long gone by then, leaving Jean as the only one in the room.

Or he was, for just a moment, before the entrance door opened and a short blonde boy walked in, freezing in his tracks and squeezing his eyes shut as soon as they were met with a very wet and very naked Jean.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry! I should have knocked or something!” He exclaimed, eyes still tightly shut as he felt around to find a vacant locker.

Jean was bewildered, a blush slowly spreading across his face as he was suddenly incredibly aware of his own nudity. “I, uh. It’s a communal shower, isn’t it? I’m probably not the first naked guy you’ll see in here.”

The blonde boy’s eye cracked open slightly, although this time his gaze was averted. He let out a faint, nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head as he went to pick a locker. 

“That’s probably true, haha. I guess I overreacted a little bit, huh?”

Jean offered a smile in response as he toweled himself off and got dressed, although the boy probably didn’t see it as he was looking pretty much anywhere that wasn’t at Jean. He could see a faint red tint to the blonde’s cheeks where his hair didn’t cover the side of his face, which only cause Jean’s own blush to deepen in increased embarrassment.

Moving over to one of the full-length mirrors in the room, Jean made sure his outfit was neat and matching. Or at least that it didn’t look too horrible. He’d only brought a plain violet v-neck t-shirt and a pair of knee length khaki shorts, with not much more left in his duffel bag back in his dorm room. He was definitely going to go shopping for some more clothes today.

Behind him in the mirror, he could see the blonde boy occasionally peeking glances over to Jean’s general direction as he flitted around his locker doing nothing in particular. It struck Jean suddenly that the boy was probably shy and waiting for Jean to leave so he could undress, and so he gathered up the rest of his things and headed out with a simple “See you around.”

Jean wasn’t sure if the boy had replied or not, as he was out of the door not a second later. Was every day in this dorm going to be incredibly fucking weird? He hoped not, for his own sake, because he didn’t know how much more abnormality could take.

When he made it back to his dorm, Marco was in his bed, looking at something on his laptop. He gave a tiny wave, not bothering to look up from the screen as Jean started putting his things away.

Jean resolved to throwing his slightly damp towel on the ground in the corner of the room, hoping it wouldn’t really matter if the floor got a bit wet. He added “laundry basket” to his mental list of necessary purchases for the afternoon.

“Hey, Jean,” Marco’s voice sounded from across the room, “I was thinking of heading to the mall today to buy some new clothes and stuff for school, and nobody I know has gotten to campus yet. Do you wanna come with me to the mall in town? I have a car and everything.”

Was this guy a mind reader or something? Either way, Jean would rather get a ride and hang out with a stranger (new friend?) than have to take public transit in a city he wasn’t familiar with.

“Sure, why not? I needed to pick up a few things today anyway,” Jean agreed, gesturing towards the crumpled heap in the corner that was his towel. Marco laughed, nodding.

“That’s kinda what made me think you might want to go, actually.”

“Good, I thought maybe you were criticizing my expert choice in clothing,.” Jean managed to joke, bringing a grin from Marco.

“Ready in an hour? I wanna check some directions and stuff online before we go.”

“No problem.”

Jean glanced over to his phone. It was 9:00 already, to his surprise. Apparently he’d spent a lot longer in the shower than he’d realized. He started to get himself ready, gathering his wallet and making sure his phone had enough power to last the day. Once he’d gotten ready, all that was really left to do was wait and listen to the tap-tap of Marco’s furious typing.

\-----

Sure enough, exactly an hour later, Jean and Marco left the dorms for the parking lot. Marco had a pretty standard young-adult car, nothing too fancy. He claimed to have picked it up at a used car dealership for only a few thousand, a fact he was pretty proud of. Jean had to admit that it was an offer he wouldn’t have turned down himself. If he could even drive, that was.

The ride to the mall had been short, but Jean had found himself able to make decent small talk with his roommate. Apparently Marco was from a city two hours west, pretty much as far away from Jean’s hometown as he could get. But Jean took a bit of comfort in knowing he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know his way around. Luckily Marco was good with directions, and so the two made it to their location in one piece.

“Holy shit. Fucking yes, thank everything for this beautiful gift that has been bestowed unto us.” Jean raised his arms in praise at the presence of three giant red characters present on the outer wall of the mall. 

“You really must hate H&M, don’t you, Jean?” Marco commented jokingly, shaking his head as he opened the doors to the mall, making an “after you” motion with his hand. He followed after Jean, who naturally after his display outside the mall made a beeline to the aforementioned store. 

“You don’t mind, right?” Jean asked suddenly, realizing that maybe he shouldn’t just go bounding off without considering Marco’s interests. He had never actually been to a mall with friends or even acquaintances, he remembered. Just with his parents or by himself, either case allowing him to just take charge and go where he wanted.

Marco shook his head. “Not at all! I’m pretty fond of H&M too, actually.” He turned to show Jean the tag on the back of his shirt- sure enough, it was H&M.

“I guess we won’t really need to visit that many stores than, will we?” Jean asked with a laugh, striding into the door with sudden confidence.

He may not have had much (or any) experience shopping with friends, but going to malls alone was secretly one of his favourite pastimes. It was easy to strike up conversation with young store attendants, or people who were shopping as well. Simple, light conversation with no worries of attachment. If Jean had any social skills he could be proud of, it was his ability to charm random strangers for a few minutes to an hour.

Right off the bat, he flashed a smile at the door greeter, striking up a brief conversation and leaving her laughing as he progressed further into the store.

“You sure seem to be in a good mood,” Marco commented as the two began looking through the sale racks, picking out shirts here and there. “Not that you didn’t seem happy before! Just. Happier.”

“Do I?” Jean asked in genuine surprise. “I guess I just like to shop. I always have.”

Marco didn’t further the conversation, just smiled and continued his search through the racks. He seemed pretty comfortable with silences, something Jean was grateful for. Soon enough, the two had gathered an adequate amount of clothing and headed over to the changing rooms. 

“I’ll just be in the change room one over!” Marco informed him, slipping into the room as promised. His voice came over the wall as he added, “Come out if you’re unsure about anything! I’ll tell you how it looks.”

Jean entered his own change room and quickly began trying on various outfits, creating two separate piles for clothes that passed or failed his inspections.

“Hey Jean, can you come check this out?” Marco’s voice rose over the wall again as Jean was straightening out a burgundy cardigan (marked down to $15 to Jean’s extreme pleasure). 

“One sec,” he called back, checking himself out in the mirror one last time before emerging from the stall.

Outside of the stalls, Marco was pulling the wrists down on an identical burgundy cardigan, and the two of them took one look at each other before they burst out laughing when they realized their coincidence. 

“I take it you like it then, huh?” The freckled boy teased, turning and checking out the back on a mirror.

“No way. I’d never wear anything like that in my life.”

“Yeah, whatever, loser.” Marco scoffed jokingly, holding out his arms on either side and spinning. “How does the rest look?”

He had a black v-neck underneath the cardigan that highlighted its burgundy colour well. The pants he had selected were a faded grey jean, and slim fitting like all of his other pants that Jean had seen the black haired boy wear. Well, he’d only seen Marco in two pairs, but he assumed the rest would be the same. His eyes traced along Marco’s legs and just vaguely skimmed by the outline of his ass. He had to admit, the pants certainly highlighted that specific asset. No pun intended.

“Jeez, Kirschtein, I know my ass looks great, but how long are you gonna stare at it?” Marco asked jokingly, immediately setting Jean’s cheeks on fire. He stammered to come up with a response but before he could say anything, his roommate let out a laugh and waved his hand dismissingly. “Don’t worry, I was just kidding! You sure embarrass easily.”

Jean laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, you just caught me off guard I guess. The outfit does look good on you, though.”

Marco beamed in response, giving a quick thanks. “The cardigan looks good on you too, though, Jean! You should get it. We can just wear them on separate days.”

Considering it for a moment, Jean nodded in agreement. “Sure. I hope nobody thinks we’re sharing clothes though, or something.”

Laughing once more, Marco returned to his stall to change back to his normal clothes. “I think they’ll just think we have impeccable taste. Rightfully so.”

The two finished up their clothes shopping, Jean feeling quite impressed with the couple of outfits he’d managed to pick out. He didn’t spend a whole ton of money, either, which was always a plus. That meant he had plenty left over to buy as much food as he wanted. He realized that he was pretty much starving by this point, having eaten nothing at all that day, his stomach attesting to this by gurgling for a full 10 seconds.

“You wanna get something to eat?” He suggested to Marco, nodding over to the food court. “My treat.”

“Really? Wow, I’d love to! But are you sure you wanna pay? I’m totally okay with paying for myself, I have enough money.”

“Don’t worry about it. Take it as a thank you present for driving me here and shopping with me.” Jean hoped Marco would accept quickly before he started to get embarrassed. Thankfully, he did, and the pair made their way over to get some McDonalds, AKA every young adult’s healthy balanced college diet.

Once they’d settled down to eat their meals (there was a $5 Big Mac combo going on, so Jean had bought one for each of them), he heard Marco let out a happy sigh.

“Hm?” Jean prompted, gracefully shoving a fry into his mouth.

“Oh, nothing! I’m just happy we could hang out today. To be honest, I thought I weirded you out or something last night.”

Jean almost choked on the fry, coughing and spluttering at the sudden statement. 

“Are you okay?” Marco asked, concern lacing his tone. Jean simply waved him off, waiting for the coughing fit to end.

“What do you mean?” He eventually strained out. He really didn’t know what was coming next, and was slightly afraid of his roommate’s response.

Marco paused for a moment.

“Well, when I got to the dorm last night it seemed like you were kinda. I dunno, put off by me or something. I guess I scared you first of all when I first came in, and I was pretty nervous to meet you, so I just wouldn’t shut up.” He smiled sheepishly. “I guess I’m just glad we could become friends.”

Jean felt a rush of both intense relief and newfound nerves at the same time. He didn’t know how to react to that. “I, uh. I’m-”

Marco quickly cut off his stuttering, tone extremely apologetic. “I’m sorry! I’m coming on too strong again, I should really just keep my mouth shut-”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it, Marco.” Jean reassured him. “I’m glad we could become friends too. I’ve just, uh. It’s kinda. Ah, nevermind, it’s a bit of a downer.”

“No, it’s okay! You can tell me.” The dark haired boy prompted, taking a bite of his burger as he waited for Jean to continue.

“Well. I haven’t really. Had a friend. In a hell of a long time, anyway.” Jean admitted, shoving his own burger into his mouth and taking a gigantic bite so he wouldn’t have to speak again too soon. He probably would have said something stupid if he were able to speak at all.

Marco stopped chewing for a brief moment before quickly gulping down the rest of his mouthful.

“Wow, Jean, I. I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t upset you by saying that or anything.”

Jean shook his head furiously, waiting until he finished his mouthful of food before speaking again. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to cram all that food into his mouth at once.

“I’m not upset, Marco, don’t worry about that. I just don’t really know how to react, to be honest. But I’m glad you said that. Thank you.”

Marco smiled in response. “You’re welcome, Jean.”

“Now let’s change the topic, holy shit, this feels like a weird sappy daytime soap or something. Like, oh my god. I feel like the biggest loser who ever loser’d. And that’s saying something, because I’m probably the least loser-ish person who ever lived.” Jean added as an extended and babbly afterthought, shoving the rest of his fries into his mouth and gulping down his drink. He gathered up his garbage on the tray, offering to take Marco’s as well.

“Where to next, friend?” Marco asked with a smile after Jean had thrown away their trash. 

“Tsch.” Jean crossed his arms, giving Marco a look.

“What?” The freckled boy feigned innocence. “Can’t a friend ask his friend where those two friends plan on being friends next?”

“Shut the fuck up, Marco, I swear to god, I’m actually going to kill you.”

“My friend is a serial killer! Oh, the joy!”

Jean made sure to punch him extra hard on the arm.

Marco made sure to shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really though. Eight hundred boys. That's a lot of boys.


	3. Coffee, But Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've read all the pairings!

The two had returned from their mall excursion, their hunger for new things satiated. Jean came back with a new laundry basket full of clothes and various accessories for his side of the room, Marco with wrists red from the weight of numerous plastic bags full of his own clothes and room garnishes.

They had spent the rest of the day bumming around, watching youtube videos on Marco’s laptop, and making sure they were prepared for the next day. After a quick comparison, Jean realized his and Marco’s schedules were almost identical, save for a few classes in different time slots.

Both of them had only one class the next day, to Jean’s relief. He wasn’t sure he wanted to start out college with a load of classes and homework the minute he stepped onto campus, or he was sure he’d be overwhelmed with both academics and the pressure of social interaction. But thankfully, this wasn’t the case, and Jean and Marco were on their way to their first lecture together.

“Do you know anything about our prof?” Marco asked, holding open the door to the lecture hall to let Jean in.

“I know about as much as you do,” Jean replied, leading his roommate into the nearly-empty classroom.

It looked as it could seat about 200 students. It was pretty small compared to what Jean had seen in tours for other colleges he’d applied to, but Maria (the name of the college he was attending) was a small college anyway.

At the front of the class, Jean could see what appeared to be two girls and a guy; blonde, black, and brown haired respectively.

“Should we sit near them?” Came Marco’s voice again, nudging Jean and nodding to the strangers at the front of the class. Jean’s gut instincts told him no, but he’d resolved to make friends in college and he’d be breaking a promise to himself if he declined. So he nodded in confirmation, making a bold move and sitting right next to the blonde at the edge of the trio who seemed to be talking animatedly to her friends.

After Jean waited a moment, it seemed she apparently hadn’t noticed his presence, so he turned to nudge her and ask a question.

“My friend and I here were just wondering if you might know who the prof-” His words were cut short as the blonde girl turned to face Jean.

In that moment, he came to the realization that a) she was in fact a he, and b) that he was the boy Jean had met the other day in the locker room Of course, it was just his luck that out of all the people he could try to converse with, it had to have been someone who had seen him naked.

“Uh.” Jean finished his sentence cleverly.

The blonde boy’s blush was back as Jean had remembered it. However, this time at least, he seemed a little bit more willing to converse.

“Ah- I remember you.” The boy started off, thankfully not pointing out where from. Jean silently thanked whatever force was out there that had prevented him from saying “from the shower room”. That force probably being the kid’s sense of tact. The shower room really wasn’t any sort of situation he’d want to explain right now. “I never got to introduce myself. My name is Armin Arlert- I guess you’re interested in Japan, too, huh?”

Before Jean could open his mouth to introduce himself, the brunette one away from Armin spoke up.

“Hey, Armin, who’s this guy?”

Jean twitched in irritation. If there was one thing he’d hated, it was being cut off. “I was about to say, I’m Jean Kirschtein. Majoring in East Asian studies, so I suppose you could say I like Japan.”

Armin looked apologetic, but before he could say anything else, the door at the back of the room opened with a bang.

“Connie!” The brunette let out an obnoxious yell at some guy with a buzzcut who had just oh-so-gracefully entered the lecture hall.

Wait. That yell…

“You!” Jean suddenly sprung up, anger spreading through his body like wildfire. “You’re the asshole who shoved me the fuck down in the hallway!”

“Tsch,” the boy responded, standing up to match Jean’s height. “I thought that might have been you. I doubt there’s anybody else out there who’d be stupid enough to get a shitty haircut like that.”

“Eren…” a low, warning voice came from below. Jean assumed it was the black haired girl. He was too busy locking eyes with the boy, ‘Eren’ apparently, who was currently returning his glare with a ferocity.

Students, including Connie, had begun to pile into the hall in silence. The hairs on the back of Jean’s neck rose, and he could tell that everyone was watching the argument that was unfolding at the front of the classroom. But he was too pissed off to care, adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins.

“What’s even your problem? You were running through the halls like an idiot, knocked me on the ground, gave me a gigantic fucking bruise, and insulted my haircut. And didn’t apologize.” Jean spat with barely contained anger. He could feel Marco tugging on his pants, urging him to sit down, but he ignored him.

“Well you just charged into the hall without a second glance, right in my fucking way! You’re obviously to blame here. And how could I resist, with an obnoxious mop like yours?”

That was it. Jean could feel his temper boiling over, and at the same time he and the other boy grabbed at each others’ shirt collar and pulled back their fists, ready to swing.

“Guys, please-” Armin stood up to separate the two of them right as the door slammed open again- this time a short, angry looking man strode in, marching up to the very front of the class and slamming his things down onto the desk. Jean and Eren froze in place, eyes busily watching as the man paid no attention to them and set up his things.

Armin slithered back down into his seat, and all eyes shot up front as a stern voice broke the silence.

“Are you two going to sit down, or continue to look like a bunch of Neanderthals fighting over who gets to pick the last bug out of the prettiest girl in the tribe’s ass hairs?” The man had looked up from his things, shooting Eren and Jean an icy glare. A snicker broke out from the rest of the class, buzz-cut kid giving a loud “haw” before the glare froze him as well.

The two boys slowly relaxed their grips on each others’ shirts, sliding back into their seats in defeat.

“I’m Professor Levi,” the man introduced himself, as if nothing had happened. “But you can call me Levi-heichou.”

“But, Levi-heichou- why not Sensei? Doesn’t ‘heichou’ mean ‘Lance Corporal’?” Jean couldn’t believe his ears. For some unknown reason, that moronic Eren kid had bothered to open his stupid mouth and interrupt the professor.

“Congratulations, brat, you know more than just how to beat your chest and stomp your feet. You’re a hero in the world of apes, and I’d give you a gold star and a banana if I had either.” Levi scoffed, not even bothering to look at Eren (who, Jean noted with satisfaction, was flushed with embarrassment) as he said it. “Yes, it does mean ‘Lance Corporal’, and let that be a warning to you all.”

Realization spread across the classroom in a wave as student after student stiffened in place. This professor certainly knew how to get his message across.

“Now,” he continued, “Some of you might be wondering my nationality, and whether or not I have the right to teach you the Japanese language. My mother is Japanese, and I lived with her in Japan for the first half of my life, so English is my second language. Not only do I know the language, but I also have a fair grasp of Japan’s cultural etiquette. Such as how we should contain our anger in a public setting, rather than explode like a testosterone-laden preteen. However, I’m sure that rule applies to more cultures than that of Japan.”

“But Levi-heichou! It was Jean who started it!” Jean was incredulous; he couldn’t believe his ears. Was this Eren kid actually an idiot?

Apparently he wasn’t alone in this thought, as Jean could tell in his peripheral vision that both Armin and Marco’s eyes were wide, and the professor was staring directly at Eren with a single eyebrow raised.

Levi stepped away from his desk, smoothly taking a pointing stick in hand as he walked towards Eren in the front row. Jean could feel Armin tensing beside him and pitied the poor kid for having such a dumb-shit friend.

A quick whip of air sounded in the silent room, and the pointing stick had found itself below Eren’s chin, lifting his head slightly so he and the professor were making eye contact.

“Kusogaki.” Levi snarled. Jean had no clue what he had said, but it wasn’t exactly hard to guess that it wasn’t friendly. “I would have applied to be a preschool teacher if I wanted to teach babies.”

With a crack, the end of the pointer previously below Eren’s jaw had returned to its owner’s hand.

“Now, unless anybody has any objections, I’d like to finally get to the lesson at hand.”

As expected, the room was silent.

\-----

When Levi finished his lesson (it was on Hiragana, Japan’s native character set), Marco had left Jean with a brief explanation of having to meet up with someone. Jean could understand- it’s not like he expected Marco to hang around him all the time. He had already mentioned having friends who just hadn’t gotten to the city yet, and seeing as the first day of classes had begun, they were bound to be there by now.

Jean found himself as the last person in the lecture hall- well, aside from Armin. He’d snorted as Eren had practically flown out of the classroom when Levi dismissed them. Served him right, the asshole. That black-haired girl had been right after him, but Armin was slow packing up his notes and missed the chance to run out with his friends. Jean realized he didn’t really know why he was still in the class, and began to head towards the door.

“I’ll see you later, Armin.” He called to the front of the class on his way up, but the increasingly loud pattering of feet told him the blonde boy was coming up behind him.

“Uh, Jean, I wanted to apologize for Eren’s behaviour! I don’t know why he was like that- well, he gets angry pretty often, but usually he’s not so confrontational.” Armin said quietly, looking ashamed.

“It’s not your job to apologize-”

“I know! I know, I just figured I should say something. Eren’s not all that bad, really, but his temper gets the better of him sometimes.”

Jean wasn’t sure what to say next, so he just thanked Armin and held open the door for him to pass through.

“Jean- before you go, I was wondering if you wanted to go out and get some coffee or something?” Armin asked suddenly as he ducked below Jean’s arm.

He wanted to have coffee with him? “If this is to get me and that Eren kid to get along or something, that’s probably not going to work.”

The shorter boy laughed, his blonde hair flicking back and forth as he shook his head. “No, no that would be a terrible idea. I promise Eren isn’t going to be there.”

Jean considered it for a moment, before he eventually decided on declining the offer. “I should probably wait until my roommate gets back or something. I wouldn’t want to worry him or anything by not being in the dorm when I said I would be.”

It was partially the truth. He had told Marco he’d be back at the dorm, but at the same time, it wasn’t as if Marco would have a panic attack or something if Jean wasn’t there. But all the same, Jean wasn’t too sure about going out to get coffee with Armin and his friends. Getting on a friendly level with Marco was trouble enough, and his plans to make friends today hadn’t exactly gone picture perfect. Maybe he’d try again another time.

“I understand,” Armin replied with a smile, although behind that smile Jean could tell he was slightly crestfallen. “Here! Take my number anyway, in case you change your mind or something. Text me so I know who you are.”

He thrust a crumpled piece of paper into Jean’s hand, and without another word, he was running in another direction.

 _Weird kid_ , Jean had thought. _Nice, but weird._

\-----

A few hours later, Jean was rolling around in his bed, bored out of his mind. Marco still hadn’t come back yet, and he had grown tired of rearranging his new trinkets and looking over his notes from the lesson earlier.

Sighing, he resigned to pulling the paper out of his pocket and punching Armin’s number into his phone. The kid had pretty neat handwriting, “Armin Arlert” traced in a neat cursive above his cell number. A tiny laugh escaped Jean as he noticed a tiny smiley face scribbled onto the corner of the note.

Once he had Armin’s number saved, he began to send him a text message.

**Hey, it’s Jean Kirschtein.**

He laid back on his bed again, staring at the ceiling. A few seconds later, his phone was buzzing against his chest.

 _That was fast_ , he thought.

**Hi, Jean! Thanks for texting me :)**

**No problem** , he typed back, thinking for a moment. **Hey, I changed my mind about coffee. You still available tonight?**

**Definitely! Meet me in starbucks at 7?**

Jean checked his clock. It was about 6:45pm; he had roughly 10 minutes to get ready, and 5 to walk to the campus Starbucks. That was enough time to get ready.

**Sure, I’ll see you then.**

**See you! :)**

Jean grabbed his toothbrush, toothpaste, and beanie (stupid Eren), and began to head to the bathroom. He hoped he didn’t run into Armin there- that would probably be pretty uncomfortable, seeing as he was heading out to meet up with him anyway.

On that line of thought, Jean opted for hopping into the elevator and using H-floor’s bathroom. There, he quickly brushed his teeth and put on his beanie, checking his appearance one last time before heading back to his dorm and putting his things away. It’s not like he was going on a date or something, but he still wanted to have a fresh appearance if he was going to hang out with somebody. Especially someone new.

Checking his clock again, Jean found it was only 6:52. He had a few extra minutes to get to the Starbucks. He was pretty sure he knew where it was, but he grabbed his campus map just in case. _Better safe than sorry_ , he thought.

When Jean stepped outside, part of him wished he had brought a sweater. It was still summer, but it was getting pretty chilly. He was wearing slim-fitting black jeans (Marco’s style might have rubbed off on him while he was shopping) and a thickly-striped grey and red v-neck t-shirt. Not much to keep him warm, but at least he had his hat (stupid, stupid Eren).

Jean ended up finding the Starbucks without much trouble, with 3 minutes to spare. A quick once-over of the people inside and he found that Armin had arrived early as well, and was waving him over.

Jean was surprised to find that he was alone. He’d thought the blonde was asking him to come hang out with him and his friends, but apparently not. A weight lifted off his shoulders as he entered the store, walking up to Armin. _One at a time_ , he thought.

“Hey,” he greeted the blonde with a slight smile. Armin beamed and returned his greeting, mentioning the fact that he hadn’t ordered yet.

“What do you usually get, Jean?”

“I know the plan was coffee, but I usually get a double chocolate chip frappuccino.” Jean admitted, a sheepish smile making its way onto his face.

Armin laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not really one for plain coffee either, so it’s okay!”

The two lined up to give their orders, Armin letting Jean go first. A peppy-looking girl with reddish brown hair took his order, flashing a blindingly-white smile as she did. As he reached into his pocket for his wallet, Armin put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“I asked you to come for coffee, so it’s only fair that I pay.” He stated, stepping in to make his order, a 20 dollar bill in his hand.

“Oh- uh, thanks, Armin.”

“Don’t mention it!”

The girl behind the counter- Sasha, her nametag stated- gave him a thanks and told him to have a nice day. Or did she say date? Jean shrugged it off quickly. It didn’t really matter.

Once Jean and Armin had their drinks, Armin suggested they walk around campus rather than linger in the Starbucks. Jean had noticed the barista giving the two of them strange looks, so he quickly agreed. He hadn’t explored campus all that much anyway.

It was starting to get dark outside, that trademark summer-y orange sky effect setting on early. It was going to be fall soon enough, and then winter. Jean groaned internally. He hated snow.

“Have you tried this drink before?” Armin broke the silence suddenly, surprising Jean. He had been so quiet, that for a second, Jean had almost forgotten his presence.

“What did you get? I didn’t hear your order,” Jean admitted. He had been too flattered by Armin’s offer to pay for his drink that he hadn’t paid attention to the blonde’s own order.

“I ordered a Java Chip Frappuccino. It’s pretty similar to yours, but it’s still really good! You can try some if you’d like.”

Jean was surprised. “Are you sure? I mean, you paid for my drink, and now you’re offering some of your own.”

Armin laughed, the same as he had before when he said he would buy Jean’s drink.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure. Go ahead,” he tipped his drink towards Jean, smiling.

Jean leaned forwards tentatively, closing his lips around the straw and giving it a suck. He was met with a mouthful of cold, chocolate-y mocha. Armin was right; it was absolutely delicious.

“Wow, this is- that’s a really good drink, damn.” He commented once he’d swallowed, much to Armin’s delight.

“I told you!” He said teasingly, skipping a little as he resumed their pace. “So- what do you plan on doing after university, Jean?”

Jean was surprised by the sudden weighted question. He hadn’t done much thinking about it, but he already knew what he’d wanted to do.

“It’s kinda silly, but I was hoping I could go into translation for like. Anime and manga. That kind of stuff.” He admitted, shoving his free hand into his pocket and fumbling around with his room key.

“That’s not silly at all! I love reading anime and watching mang- er.” Armin stopped suddenly, clearly embarrassed by his mistake. Jean just laughed, retracting his hand from his pocket again to cover his mouth as he did so.

“Hey! It’s not funny, you know what I mean!” He pouted, even as he let out a giggle himself. Jean looked back at him with an eyebrow raised, and the two burst into laughter. “Okay, maybe it was a little funny. But I know you watch anime and read manga! Just for the record.”

Jean and Armin continued to laugh for a while before the shorter of the two spoke up again. “You wanna sit over there on that bench? I’m probably gonna get a cramp or something from this gigantic drink if I walk and laugh too much.”

The blonde pointed over to a bench surrounded by those giant raised flowerbeds schools and fancy buildings like to place around their establishments. Most end up full of random trash from the streets, but the school seemed to keep their decorations tidy. They even had a garbage can placed strategically nearby to discourage littering in the beds. _Clever thinking_ , Jean had thought.

He followed Armin over to the bench, letting out a pleased sigh as he sat down. The sky continued to hold onto its orange-red hues, clouds occasionally blotting out the light over where the two were sitting.

“I know I already said this, but I’m sorry about Eren today,” Armin began, fingers gripping his cup so tightly that it bent inwards on itself. “I hope you didn’t wear that hat because of what he said.”

Jean flushed quickly, stumbling to come up with an answer. Armin had read him like an open book.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you- I mean, it’s okay if you did,” he apologized quietly. “I just wanted to say that, uh. I like your haircut, at least.”

Jean turned to look at Armin, who was still gripping his cup tightly. “You- you do?”

Armin, in turn, looked up at Jean, tilting his head and smiling. Jean could tell he was embarrassed about the compliment, but he hid it well. “Yeah. I do.”

Silence fell between them, but neither looked away. Jean felt weird- he didn’t know what was going on, but it was still at least slightly comfortable.

“I- uh,” Armin broke the silence like earlier, except this time he couldn’t seem to find his words. He looked nervous, scared. Anxious.

“Armi-” Jean started to ask what was wrong, but was cut off by the feeling of Armin’s hands placing themselves on either side of Jean’s jaw and warm lips against his own. His eyes widened dramatically as Armin kissed him, his condensation-wet hands shaking with undisguised nerves. Jean didn’t know what to do but lightly return the kiss, enjoying the taste of mocha still attached to Armin’s soft lips.

He had only been kissed once before, and that was by a younger cousin when they were kids. His aunt had come into the room and started screaming, and that was pretty much the last he’d seen of that cousin. He preferred not to think about it.

Seconds passed, or it could have been minutes. Jean wasn’t sure. After an unknown amount of time, Armin broke off, apologizing furiously.

“Jean, I- I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me! I- I have to go!” He jumped off the bench with lightning speed, ignoring Jean’s calls after him as he sprinted away through campus towards the dorms.

Jean was left standing alone in the grass, his drink still on the bench. Had Armin shown any signs of being attracted to Jean? Besides that last compliment, there was no way for Jean to know. He was unfamiliar with any sort of social cues indicating romantic feelings, besides the obvious ones. Like what had just happened.

He hadn’t rejected Armin, though- he even kissed back a little, even though he didn’t really know how to. Had he done something to upset him?

Jean let out a distressed noise, slumping back onto the bench and taking a long sip of his drink. The sun had sunken down further in the time he and Armin had spent on the bench, robbing most of the areas around Jean of light and colour.

He hadn’t even been able to get a word out to Armin to indicate he hadn’t done anything wrong; he’d run away fast and not turned back when Jean called out his name.

He could probably text him, but who knows if the blonde would even check his phone?

Jean groaned, putting his head in his hands. Had he already fucked up a new friendship without even meaning to? All because of a silly kiss that he didn't even initiate?

College was fucking confusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Were you expecting that? I was. You know, because I'm writing this story.
> 
> And yes, folks- apparently romance in college DOES come that easily. I'm taking an extra year of high school, so I wouldn't know it yet- but from stories my best friend has told me, this isn't an unlikely thing to happen.
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter. uvu


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